


Hanukkah at Hogwarts: Being a Tale of Light, Friendship, and Wizardly Ignorance

by HC_Weatherfield



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Clueless Cedric, Hanukkah, Jewish Hermione, Jewish Snape, Snape is a jerk, bless him, chosen family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 18:19:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16815955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HC_Weatherfield/pseuds/HC_Weatherfield
Summary: Cedric comes across a first-year Hermione crying because Snape won't let her go home for Hanukkah.  You can guess what comes next.





	Hanukkah at Hogwarts: Being a Tale of Light, Friendship, and Wizardly Ignorance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WishBySpiritAndIfByYes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WishBySpiritAndIfByYes/gifts).



> Just want to write a quick disclaimer here: I am not Jewish. I am trying very hard because this is a gift for WishBySpiritAndIfByYes, who is a true genius at being Jewish. The lack of openly Jewish kids at Hogwarts has always bothered me, but I don't make a huge gesture toward trying to explain it. The main purpose here is fluff with a small dash of feels. I hope you like it, darling!

Cedric was on his way back from the library when he heard sniffles. And, damn his Hufflepuff heart, he needed to find the source of those tears and comfort it even more than he needed to get back to the dormitories and get a good night’s sleep with his cat Wendelyn.

The sniffles, as it turned out, were coming from a Gryffindor first-year curled up on a bench in an alcove. Cedric vaguely recognized her as one of the kids who hung around Harry Potter. She had medium-brown skin and a halo of dark curls, and her nose was always in a book. He didn’t know her name.

“All right there?” he asked her gently. This turned out to be a bad choice, as she just cried harder. Floundering, he knelt by the bench so she could see his face, but at enough distance that she wouldn’t feel cornered.

“I’m Cedric Diggory,” he said. “Hufflepuff, fourth year. What’s your name?” The girl wiped her eyes on the hood of her robes and tried to look him in the eye.

“Granger. Hermione.”

“Well, Hermione,” said Cedric, “I’m aiming to become a prefect next year, so with any luck, I’ll be able to give whoever made you cry detention.”

“No luck,” said Hermione through her tears, though she was almost starting to smile now. “It was Snape.”

“My sympathies,” said Cedric solemnly. “There isn’t anybody in the school who wouldn’t like to give him detention if they could manage it.”

“He’s vile,” she spat bitterly.

“What has he done?”

Then, Merlin help him, she started crying again.

“I just wanted to go h-h-home for the holiday,” she said.

“Merlin!” exclaimed Cedric, “Snape is forcing you to stay over Christmas?”

“N-no. Hanukkah.”

Cedric paused, and remembered another detail: there was gossip in school about Harry Potter befriending a Muggleborn girl. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but I’m afraid I don’t know what that is.”

“See,” said Hermione, “this sort of ignorance is inexcusab-ble.” She was still stuttering a bit, but her tears were beginning to dry and she was starting to sit up. “I know for a f-fact there are Jewish witches and wizards. So why don’t purebloods understand--”

“Ah!” said Cedric excitedly, “So Hanukkah is a Jewish celebration? We don’t see many Jewish purebloods or halfbloods here, as there’s a Jewish Wizarding school in Spain.”

“Which doesn’t accept Muggleborns,” Hermione grumbled. She was sitting all the way up now.

“I wouldn’t know,” said Cedric regretfully. “I’m afraid I wasn’t sufficiently curious about these things, growing up.”

“I’d be happy to teach you,” said Hermione. There was light coming back to her eyes now.

“All right then. Budge up.” Hermione scooched over, and Cedric sat on the bench next to her. “So, Hanukkah is a Jewish winter celebration of some sort?”

“Yeah,” said Hermione. “It’s eight days in early December, celebrating the victory of the--well, we can get into that later. The point is, I wanted to go home to celebrate it with my f-family…” she was tearing up again.

“May I put my arm around your shoulder?” Cedric asked. “It might make you feel better.”

“All right,” said Hermione in a small voice.

“You want to tell me about what Snape did?” he asked.

“Well, I was planning to ask all my professors for a chance to take my exams early so that I could go home for Hanukkah. It’s maybe sort of silly, but it’s when all my mum’s family gets together, so--”

“It’s not silly,” Cedric assured her. “I’d love to have a big family to get together with. It’s just me and my mum and dad.”

“You’re right,” she whispered, “it’s not silly.”

She took a moment to gather herself, then continued. “I went to Snape first, because, even though he’s a ba--he’s an unpleasant sort, I thought he’d be the most sympathetic. I’d heard him muttering in Yiddish once or twice, so I guessed that he had Jewish family.” She grimaced. “Apparently that actually made him less sympathetic.”

“Slytherins,” said Cedric, shaking his head.

“So I asked him to reschedule,” Hermione bit out, “and he said he saw no reason why he should make an exception to the rules for one b-brat to light a few candles, no matter how much she th-thought she kn-knew.” She was starting to cry again.

“That man should not be teaching,” Cedric hissed, then clamped his hand to his mouth, surprised at his own vehemence. “We’ll go to Dumbledore. He has to change the rules. This is unacceptable.”

“I already met with Dumbledore. He said I could go if I could get permission from all my professors.”

“That’s not right,” said Cedric. “We’ll go over his head. My mum is on the school board. I’ll get her to talk some sense into the others, and by this time next year, Dumbledore will be overruled.”

Hermione looked at Cedric with wide eyes. “I’ll start a letter-writing campaign,” she agreed.

“Excellent! I love a woman of action.” He ruffled her hair. “If I had a little sister, I’d want her to follow your example.”

“Thank you,” said Hermione, wiping away further tears.

“Now,” said Cedric, “tell me all about this Hanukkah.”

~

It wasn’t a bad showing. Cedric had been right about the dearth of Jewish Hogwarts students: just Anthony Goldstein and Hermione from first year, a couple of Muggleborn upperclassmen, and one bashful Slytherin, a halfblood whose parents were too xenophobic to send her all the way to Spain. But trailing these people were their friends. Hermione had brought Harry Potter and all the Weasleys currently at Hogwarts, as well as a few curious Gryffindors; Goldstein had brought most of his year’s Ravenclaws, stiff-backed with solemn curiosity about “other people’s” customs; and Cedric had brought his usual flock of hangers-on, mostly Hufflepuffs. Professor Flitwick presided over the festivities, having offered his classroom and his skill with charms for the event.

It was a beautiful, if overwhelming, space. Flitwick and his helpers (Cedric enthusiastic amongst them) had taken the concept of a “festival of lights” to its logical extreme, and everything glittered and glowed. The walls and ceiling were embedded with tiny pinpoints of light like countless jewels, their shifting sparkle glinting off the silver and gold tableware piled high with fried treats. At the center of it all was a lovely silver menorah, a family heirloom Hermione’s mum had lent them.

When she entered the room, Hermione took it all in silently, her eyes swimming with those blasted tears again. Cedric’s heart warmed as he saw each of Hermione’s best friends loop an arm around hers.

“I can’t believe it,” she whispered.

“I know,” replied Goldstein, standing nearby, “I feel like I’m inside a tennis bracelet.”

~

It was Hermione who told the story and lit the candles, and the others took turns leading them in song. Afterward they all gathered around the food tables to eat and talk.

“These latkes are excellent,” said Hermione, “Who made them?”

The young Weasley opened his mouth, but Cedric cut him off and changed the subject. If he knew his militant little sister, she would have a thing or two to say once she found out about house elves, not a word of it appropriate for a holiday celebration. Best save that conversation for January. Or a few years from now.

“I can’t believe we’re really celebrating Hanukkah,” said Kaufman, a blond girl who Cedric thought was a seventh-year Ravenclaw. “I thought I’d be levitating birthday candles eight nights a year for the rest of forever.”

“Yes,” said Broder, the Slytherin, almost too softly to hear. “I had no idea how it would be here. Father’s a wizard and Mother’s a Muggle, but it never meant a thing in my family. They figured they had something more important in common. This brings it all back to me.”

“It must be hard,” said Hermione, “being in Slytherin.”

“It’s hard being away from my temple at all,” said Broder. “Thank you for doing this, Granger.”

“It was Cedric, actually. I told him Snape wouldn’t reschedule my exams to accommodate Hanukkah, and he did the rest.”

“Hermione’s being modest,” said Harry Potter. “She’s always making things happen.”

“Well then,” said Cedric, raising his glass, “To Hermione’s accidental magic!” And the whole room toasted her.

Cedric would stay true to his word. The next year, Hermione would take her exams early and go home for the holiday. But this year, Cedric got to see her eyes swim with tears, not because of loneliness or anger, but because of a sense of belonging. It would remain one of his happiest memories for all the remaining days of his life.


End file.
